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On a rainy afternoon in Chengdu, Mei pushes open the creaky wooden door of “Old Bookstore on the Alley”—a 50-year-old shop tucked away in the labyrinth hutongs of the city. The smell of old paper and jasmine tea wraps around her as she greets Mr. Wang, the 72-old owner who’s been running the shop since he was 22. This moment, captured in a long-form article on her Weibo account StoryLab, would go on to become one of her most viral posts, touching the hearts of over 100k readers and sparking a of visits to the shop. For Li Mei, this is exactly why she started CityStoryLab: to tell the stories of the people and places that our cities alive, beyond the glitzy skyscrapers and tourist hotspots.
The account’s audience is a community of young urbanites aged 1835, united by a craving for authentic, human-centric stories. 60% are female—students, young professionals, or culture enthusiasts who of generic travel guides and seek emotional connections to the places they live or visit. 40% are male, including expats exploring China’s cities local explorers eager to uncover hidden gems. What binds them all is a shared belief that cities are more than maps—they are living, breathing entities of people’s dreams, struggles, and memories.
Li Mei, the founder CityStoryLab, is not your typical social media influencer. A former cultural reporter at China Youth Daily, she spent 5 years covering large-scale (like the Beijing International Book Fair) but often felt that the “small stories”—the ones about ordinary people and their relationship with their cities—were overlooked. In 2019, she quit her job and launched CityStoryLab with a simple mission: to document the untold stories of’s cities.
With a master’s degree in cultural studies from Peking University, Li Mei brings a unique lens to her work. She doesn’t report—she immerses herself. Whether it’s spending a day with a street food vendor in Xi’an or interviewing a traditional silk weaver in Su, her approach is rooted in empathy and curiosity. “Cities are not just buildings,” she says. “They are the sum of the people call them home. My job is to capture those stories and make others see the beauty in the mundane.”
Her professional定位 is clear: she’s “city storyteller” who bridges the gap between urban culture and everyday life. She’s not a travel blogger (though her posts often inspire travel or a historian (though she weaves in historical context)—she’s a storyteller who humanizes cities.
CityStoryLab’s content revolves around three pillars: hidden urban spaces, human stories, and cultural preservation. Each long article (1500–2000 words) is a journey into a corner of a city that most people never see.
For, her post about the Chengdu bookstore doesn’t just list its address—it tells Mr. Wang’s story: how he inherited the shop from his, refused to sell it to a developer, and still reads to local children every weekend. The article is accompanied by photos of weathered wooden shelves, of dog-eared books, and Mr. Wang’s hands (stained with ink from decades of turning pages).
What sets CityStoryLab apart its focus on emotion over information. Instead of giving readers a checklist of places to visit, Li Mei gives them a reason to care. Her post about Guangzhou market facing demolition interviews vendors who’ve been there for decades—capturing their sadness as they pack up their stalls and their hope that the city remember their legacy. This post sparked a public outcry, leading the local government to revise its plans and preserve part of the market.
Other includes short videos (1–3 minutes) of artisans at work (like a potter in Jingdezhen) and photo essays of hidden alleyways Shanghai. She also uses interactive polls (e.g., “What’s your favorite hidden spot in your city?”) to engage her audience.
For followers, CityStoryLab is a treasure trove of value:
CityStoryLab’s update frequency is consistent but not overwhelming: 3– posts a week. Every Wednesday and Friday, Li Mei publishes a long-form article. On other days, she shares short content (photos, videos,).
Her互动策略 is designed to build community:
These strategies have fostered a fan base—many followers consider CityStoryLab a “friend” who shares their love for cities.
StoryLab has grown steadily since its launch, with 520k+ followers (2024) and an impressive 3.% engagement rate (well above Weibo’s average of 1%).
Some of its爆款 content:
These numbers show thatStoryLab’s content resonates deeply and has real-world impact.
CityStoryLab collaborated with brands and organizations aligned with its mission:
In terms of industry influence, Li Mei was invited to speak at the 2023 Urban Culture Forum in, where she talked about the importance of documenting small urban stories. Her work was quoted in China Daily and featured on CCTV’s *City Stories program.
Looking ahead, CityStoryLab plans to expand its content:
Li Mei says: “StoryLab is not just my account—it’s a community. I want to keep telling stories that make people fall in love with their cities again.”
Conclusion
CityStoryLab is more than a Weibo account—it’s a movement. It’s a reminder that cities are not just about skyscers and traffic; they’re about the people who live there, the stories they tell, and the memories they create. Li Mei’s work has hundreds of thousands of lives, inspiring them to look closer at their own cities and appreciate the small, beautiful moments that make life worth living. As CityLab grows, it will continue to unveil the soul of China’s cities—one story at a time.
(Word count: 220+)

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